


A Christmas Secret

by gmariam



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Christmas, Episode: s01e10 Out of Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-09-20 05:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17016966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gmariam/pseuds/gmariam
Summary: When Jack finds Ianto wandering the lower levels of the Hub on Christmas Eve, he wonders if the Welshman is hiding another secret.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_There are many secrets in us, in the depths of our souls, that we don't want anyone to know about. ~Charles Durning_

It had been a long day and a hard night for the Torchwood team.

Emma Cowell had decided to go to London, and Jack had listened to Gwen question and complain about the young woman's decision for hours. They'd just met, but Gwen was already acting like her mother, or an overbearing older sister; Jack couldn't help but think maybe it was best that Emma went out on her own. She had a good head, a strong heart, and a sense of adventure. She might even be good Torchwood material in a few years, once she experienced the 21st century—and London— in all its dubious glory.

Then there was Diane Holmes, and Owen's clear infatuation with the pilot, but the less Jack thought about that the better.

Of all three travelers, John Ellis had struggled the most. Jack understood how hard it was to adapt; he'd had to do it dozens of times with the Time Agency, and adjusting to a time not one's own was always a challenge. Yet he'd chosen those assignments, because he'd enjoyed the challenge. John had not chosen to be stranded fifty years in the future, in a time he didn't recognize, where everyone he knew was old and gone.

Maybe he could have tried harder to help John live instead of watch him die, but Jack couldn't regret what was done. John's family had already lost him fifty years ago; there was no one to mourn him. He had lost everything, particularly his son, and had seen little to live for. So Jack had made sure that John wasn't alone at the end, his Christmas gift to a broken man.

Jack hated dying, and asphyxiation by carbon monoxide was particularly harsh. His body may have regenerated, but the effects lingered, and Jack felt tired, weak, and slightly nauseous for several hours after. Fortunately, the others were long gone—all except Ianto, of course. It was his car John had stolen, and now it was ruined. There would be no cleaning it, not after such a long exposure to the noxious fumes, and Jack doubted Ianto would want to use it again anyway, knowing a man had died in it.

After cleaning up and snacking on some plain biscuits he found tucked away in the kitchen—he even made hot tea to dunk them in, which was always a mark of how bad he was feeling—Jack decided to go in search of Ianto. He had not seen the Welshman much all day; Ianto had been busy, working diligently on something somewhere in the Hub, and distant whenever Jack had encountered him. In fact, he'd been distracted for weeks, particularly for the past several days, and Jack suspected it did not have to do with their time-traveling guests.

It was Ianto's first Christmas since the fall of Torchwood One and the death of his girlfriend. Jack knew from experience that the holidays were hard after losing someone, and thought about how he might help. He and Ianto did not talk much; their form of comfort and coping was more physical, but it was what he could offer.

Ianto was not in the main part of the Hub and no longer in the tourist office, which meant he was most likely in the archives, either sorting and cataloging in the stacks, or working at the computer he'd set up in a small office nearby. To Jack's surprise, the office was empty, and a quick shout into the main room of the archives produced no answer. Jack wondered if Ianto had gone home without saying anything, but his coat was still upstairs, so unless he had left in a hurry, he was somewhere in the Hub.

More searching, including the room where Lisa had died, failed to produce any sign of the young man, and Jack wished he'd worn his comm so he could call—assuming Ianto even had his. Jack decided to go back upstairs and look through the CCTV, to reassure himself that Ianto was all right. And they should probably talk about replacing his car.

Heading toward the main part of the Hub, he almost ran into Ianto coming up the stairs from one of the lower levels they rarely, if ever, used anymore. Caught by surprise, Ianto stepped back, a fleeting moment of something that resembled panic crossing his face as he tucked his arms behind his back. Jack felt his own flash of fear, that Ianto was downstairs, sneaking around, hiding something, looking guilty. He tried to shake it off, putting the thought from his mind. Ianto was a trusted member of his team. After what had happened with Lisa Hallet, Jack knew Ianto would not betray them—or him—again.

Besides, they were sleeping together. Ianto couldn't keep another big secret, could he?

Jack forced himself to smile, even though he couldn't quite stamp out the flicker of uncertainty in his gut. He hated doubting Ianto, but when it came to keeping secrets, the man was almost as good as Jack, and could probably pull off another if he put his mind to it. But what, and why? In the time since he'd returned to work, Ianto had proven himself loyal to Torchwood. And surely, he hadn't fallen into bed with Jack only to betray him again?

"Hey there," he said, hoping his voice sounded more casual than he felt. "What're you doing down here? It's freezing," he added, hoping to cover up any hint of accusation.

Ianto nodded. "Which is why I was heading back to my office. Or maybe upstairs for something warm to drink."

Jack stepped out of the way and they walked back toward the archives office together. "It's late, you know," Jack pointed out. "You should be at home, tucked up warm in your bed."

"While visions of sugar plums dance in my head?" Ianto asked dryly. Jack laughed.

"It is Christmas Eve. What's so important you're wandering around down here?" He glanced sideways at Ianto and noticed a smudge of dirt on his face. "And getting dirty without me?"

Ianto rubbed at his cheek and shrugged. "Nothing much. Came across something I wanted to check out."

"What's that?"

There was only the slightest hesitation, and it probably didn't mean anything.

"A smuggler's cavern nearby."

"Really?" Jack asked. "I've been here a while and never seen anything like that." He hoped Ianto wasn't making it up to cover his real reasons for roaming the lower levels.

"I was reading some files from 1955," Ianto said. "The year they went missing, to see if there was any mention of the Rift event that took the plane." He paused and made a face. "I read through almost all the cases from that year, and not a thing. Except a strange off-hand reference to an underground cavern that might make a good bomb shelter. Or party cave."

"Oh, I remember hearing about that now!" Jack exclaimed. "The Torchwood clubhouse. We tried to find it once too."

Jack could have sworn Ianto looked hopeful. "Tried?" he asked.

"Never found it," Jack answered without offering more. He certainly couldn't tell Ianto it had been 1928 when he'd gone searching for the fabled cave. Ianto probably had his suspicions about Jack, but Jack wasn't ready to share that part of himself. And considering he'd never found such a cave in over a century of wandering around the Hub, he half believed it was a tall tale told by Torchwood agents to the next generation to send them on a wild goose chase through the dark lower levels.

"Right," Ianto said, and now he sounded disappointed. "Well, no luck here either, and now I'm an icicle."

"I could warm you up," Jack offered, offering a suggestive look.

Ianto sighed. "I appreciate it, but it's been a long day. I think I'll call a cab and head home. I hadn't realized how long I was wandering around down there."

"If you're sure," Jack replied. He was disappointed, but he would never admit it. Whatever was going on between him and Ianto was casual. It was good and he was enjoying it more and more, but it was still casual. They were under no obligation to spend every night together, particularly Christmas.

Ianto nodded, turned off the lights, and they started upstairs toward the main part of the Hub. "Maybe tomorrow?" Jack suggested.

There was again the slightest hesitation. "Actually, I was planning on seeing my family. Assuming aliens don't decide to invade Cardiff instead of London this year."

"Of course," Jack said. He was slightly surprised, as he hadn't thought about Ianto having a family. Of course he did. He probably didn't see them much since he seemed to spend as much time working as Jack, but obviously he'd want to be with them for Christmas. Which meant it would be another quiet, lonely night for Jack.

"What about Wednesday? Assuming Boxing Day doesn't bring out the Weevils?" Ianto turned toward him, looking worried and apprehensive. "We could pick up some dinner and go back to mine, if you—"

"Yes," Jack said, a warm feeling in his chest moving him to accept immediately. They might be nothing more than coworkers with benefits, but that didn't mean he couldn't look forward to seeing Ianto after Christmas and spending time with him. Especially if much of it was spent in bed.

"Right," said Ianto, looking surprised at Jack's quick response. "Well, call me if there are any alien incursions before then." They reached the main part of the Hub and Ianto went over to his station, where he shut everything down before pulling on his coat. He struggled with his sleeve before looking up. "Jack…I'm sorry about John."

"I'm sorry about your car," Jack replied, but Ianto shook his head.

"It's just a car," he said. "One I happened to like, but it can be replaced."

"We could go shopping sometime, if you wanted," Jack said.

"I might take you up on that," Ianto said, smiling. "Are you okay? About John?"

"I'm okay," Jack answered. "And you? I know it's been a hard year."

Ianto looked down, toed the ground. "I'm okay," he replied, nodding as if trying to reassure himself. "Work keeps me going. Thank you for asking."

Jack tucked his hands into his pockets. Ianto looked tired and worn out. He definitely worked too much, but Jack understood how sometimes it was the only thing that helped one get through the hard times. "Well, enjoy your day off, you've earned it. I'll see you Wednesday."

"Good night," Ianto said. "Happy Christmas, Jack."

"Happy Christmas, Ianto."

Jack watched him leave before turning back toward his office. He'd have a drink, maybe keep an eye on London, and try to survive yet another a sad and solitary Christmas.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be slowing down these days when it comes to writing, but one more crazy idea grabbed me, so enjoy. It's about five chapters, with a chapter a week or two should things not get too busy with the holidays (though they probably will!) Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Jack wandered through the lower corridors of the Hub, thinking back to the previous year, when he'd done the exact same thing, the exact same night. He'd been looking for Ianto then as well. The Welshman had been searching the lower levels for the smuggler's cave rumored to lie somewhere nearby along the bay. Though he hadn't said anything since, Jack wondered if Ianto had really been looking for it, or had simply retreated after the grim events of that night—and if he had ever found it.

Jack was hoping for a better night than the previous year, when Ianto had left and Jack had spent both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day alone. They'd managed to connect on Boxing Day, and it had been good, but Jack was looking forward to spending more time with Ianto this year, to actually celebrating the holiday instead of simply tolerating it.

Assuming the Rift stayed quiet and the aliens stayed in London, Jack had plans with Ianto, and they included more than sex. Because it was more than sex after six months together, even if neither one of them would admit it to the other. He'd bought wine, and food, and a gift he hoped Ianto liked. All he wanted was a quiet night together, cooking dinner and watching a movie before retreating to the bedroom. He wanted to wake up next to Ianto, exchange gifts, share a Christmas breakfast. He hoped Ianto was looking forward to it as much as Jack, but like last year, Ianto had been distant and busy all day. All week, in fact; more than anything, Jack wanted to reconnect.

He was not surprised to find the archives empty, and for some reason, his feet carried him toward the same stairway where he'd bumped into Ianto the year before. He headed even lower, down corridors he hadn't seen for decades, half wondering if he'd ever seen some of them at all. It was dark, and cold, and he doubted that Ianto was down there, yet something drew him forward.

Tapping his comm, which he'd remembered this time, he hoped Ianto would answer so Jack could return to the much warmer upper levels. "Ianto? Where are you hiding this year?"

There was no answer. Jack sighed; Ianto didn't have his comm, or it may not be working so deep below ground. Jack decided to turn around. Impulsively checking his wrist strap, however, he was surprised to find a heat source not far away. A large heat source, with multiple life signs. His breathing picked up as he continued forward, drawing his gun against whatever he might find.

There was light ahead, and he moved quietly toward it, hoping that the Hub hadn't been infiltrated. A small part of him worried that Ianto was hiding another big secret, but he buried the thought as he found himself at the edge of a large cavern; it must be the rumored smuggler's cave, the one he'd once tried to find, the one Ianto had gone searching for the previous year.

Only it wasn't filled with modern-day smugglers. It was lit by lanterns placed at even intervals along the walls. There were desks in between, and a few sofas, and even a small kitchen area, with two other tunnels leading away. In the center of the cavern was a large Christmas tree surrounded by small rugs. It was warm and cozy, bustling with noise and activity, and smelled faintly of warm cookies.

Several dozen men and women moved about, carrying large sacks, writing on clipboards, and punching notes into data pads. As Jack watched in astonishment, a dark-skinned man materialized on one of the rugs next to the tree—like a landing pad of sorts, then. The man was wearing a red jumper and had a large sack over his back. And he was wearing a vortex manipulator.

"No way," Jack murmured, staring at the scene before him. A young woman materialized on another carpet pad. She was shivering and looked cold and miserable. A tall blond man stepped up and handed her a warm mug, which she sipped gratefully as he took her sack. They retreated to a sofa, where the man pulled out a clipboard and nattered on while she leaned back and closed her eyes, exhausted. The man stopped, smiled, and left her for a few minutes.

Jack was watching the scene in stunned silence when someone turned and saw him. It was an older man, with white hair and a beard, wearing a long scarlet robe that looked more like an overcoat. His eyes widened behind round spectacles, and he called out to several men in black nearby. As they moved toward Jack, there was another materialization by the tree, and Ianto appeared on one of the rugs, looking drained as he set down an empty rucksack.

Jack thought about retreating, about running back through the tunnels to the main part of the Hub and putting it on lockdown. But what was the point? Ianto was in there, and Jack needed to know what the hell was going on.

Was he dating a time-traveling smuggler?

Stepping into the cavern, Jack waited for the men in black. They must have been guards of some sort, for each grabbed an arm without speaking, their faces set with neutral grimness. Jack didn't protest, his eyes on Ianto the entire time. A young woman came up to him and must have said something about Jack, because Ianto whirled around and saw him. His eyes widened as well and his face went pale; he'd been discovered. At what, remained to be seen.

The white-haired man in scarlet robes strode over with Ianto, clearly disappointed as he narrowed his eyes at Jack before turning toward Ianto.

"I knew this was a terrible idea," he said with a light Spanish accent. "How you ever thought you could keep this secret from your coworkers is beyond me."

"No one ever comes down here," Ianto told him, sounding shocked and staring at Jack like he'd never seen him before. "No one knows it's here."

The white-haired man turned back with a raised eyebrow toward Jack. "Tell me, Captain Harkness, how you managed to find us when no one ever comes down here because no one knows it's here."

Jack stared at him, his instinctive response to retort and argue warring with his desire to protect Ianto. Because he sensed that Ianto was in trouble.

"I was looking for Ianto," Jack replied as evenly as he could. "And ended up walking farther than I intended. I picked up several life signs with my wrist strap and decided to investigate."

The white-haired man turned toward Ianto, obviously taken by surprise. "A wrist strap? He has a vortex manipulator?" Ianto nodded without a word.

"Who are you and why are you here?" Jack demanded.

The man ignored him and picked up Jack's arm, examining his wrist strap. "Where did you get this? It's not one of ours."

"It's mine," Jack snapped, pulling his arm away. "I earned it. Ianto, what the hell is going on?"

"Jack, I'm sorry, I can explain—"

The white-haired man raised an eyebrow again, and Ianto stopped, looking stricken.

"We're working," the older man said. "And you're interrupting, Captain Harkness. We don't have time to explain, so I'm afraid you'll have to stay here until we figure out what to do with you."

"What to do with me?" Jack exclaimed. "This is my Hub. You're trespassing, and you expect me to sit around and let you get on with whatever's going on here? I don't think so."

The man folded his arms over his chest. "Ah, so you want to ruin Christmas then, do you, Captain?"

"Ruin Christmas?" Jack turned to Ianto. "Tell me what's going on. And tell me you're not involved."

The older man laughed, a deep rumble that echoed across the chamber. "Oh, Ianto is quite involved. He has been for several years now, though we may have to reevaluate that."

Ianto's head whipped up, his eyes wide. "No! I can explain, I swear. I have a break in…" He checked his left wrist, where he was wearing a wrist strap. Jack felt his stomach clench, seeing it on Ianto's arm. Another secret. "Two more jumps."

The white-haired man studied him, then nodded. "Make them quick, then. I'll sit with your other boss. I admit I'm curious about him."

"Your other boss?" Jack asked quietly, unable to set aside the feeling of betrayal.

"Jack, I will explain everything," Ianto told him, pulling himself up straighter. "It's not what you think, at least, not if you're thinking it's something bad, because it's not bad, it's something good and amazing and—"

The young woman who had spoken to Ianto earlier approached with another rucksack, stuffed to bursting. Jack was fairly sure he saw a bow poking out of the top.

"Your next jump is ready, Mr. Jones," said the young woman. She had ginger hair and a nice smile, though she was pointedly avoiding looking at Jack.

"Thank you, Meghan," Ianto said. He looked torn between staying and going, and shook his head to focus. "Two jumps, Jack, and I'll explain everything."

"And I'll keep an eye on him," the white-haired man said. "Back to work, Ianto. Before we get behind schedule. Remember last year."

"Yes, sir," Ianto murmured. Jack frowned at hearing Ianto address another boss that way, but fortunately there was no flirting behind it. Jack wasn't sure he could handle that, on top of finding Ianto in an old cave beneath the Hub with a dozen people wearing wrist straps. He also wondered what had happened the previous year.

Jack watched as Ianto went back to his rug. It was white with a large red dragon on it. Ianto smiled weakly at him, punched several buttons on his wrist strap, and promptly winked out of existence.

"Where did he go?" Jack demanded, turning on the old man beside him. "Or should I say when?"

"I believe his next jump is Caernarvon," the white-haired man said. He studied Jack over the bridge of his nose and glasses. "And only a few hours ahead. Let's sit down. I have some questions."

"So do I," Jack told him, but followed him toward a large sofa on the other side of the tree. The old man sat down and waited for Jack to join him. He then motioned at one of the many people scurrying about, and soon they both had a warm mug of hot cocoa and a plate of cookies. Jack was starting to have some crazy ideas, and almost wondered if he was dreaming—or hallucinating.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What is this place, and what is Ianto doing here?"

"I am Nicolas," the other man said. Whereas he had been bordering on angry moments earlier, now he seemed relaxed, though still on guard. He sipped contentedly from his mug, dark eyes studying Jack from under bushy black brows, far more clever and insightful than he let on.

He did not offer more, and Jack quickly grew frustrated. "What do you do here, in this cave, Nicolas?"

"What do you think we're doing?"

"It was said there used to be a smuggler's cave here in the 1800s," Jack said. "Are you funneling goods through time?"

The man laughed again; it was both heartening and unsettling. "Not at all. We're not doing anything illegal, unless making people happy is against the law."

"I'm not happy," Jack grumbled. The older man sighed.

"That's because you don't understand what you've stumbled into," he said. "But I assure you, we want nothing but the best for the children of the world."

At that moment, Ianto appeared on his rug. He seemed even more frazzled than when he had left and threw Jack an apprehensive look before calling for Meghan again. She frowned as she listened, then hurried away. She returned with a thermos, an energy bar, and another sack. Ianto gulped it down, practically inhaled the energy bar, threw the sack over his shoulder, and disappeared.

"Llandudno, I believe," Nicolas murmured. "He'll exhaust himself at this pace."

"Doing what?" Jack asked. "Am I supposed to believe you're some sort of mythical Christmas figure spreading holiday cheer?"

"You can believe whatever you please," the man replied. "My name is Nicolas Garras. I was born outside Madrid in 1942."

"And now you live in a cave in Wales?"

The man shook his head. "I did not think it would be a good idea. I'd much prefer a sunny villa in Tuscany or a sprawling hacienda in the country. But Ianto thought…well, I'll let him explain why we're here when he returns. I imagine you will have much to talk about."

"Is he in trouble?" Jack demanded.

"That remains to be seen," the old man replied. "Tell me, Captain Harkness. How did you come by your wrist strap? You said you earned it. Does that mean you stole it?"

"No, I earned it," Jack said. "I trained for it, worked for it, bled for it, and died for it. I was a Time Agent."

Nicolas sat up. "Indeed. Well. Ianto did not mention that."

"That's because it isn't his information to share," Jack replied. "And he doesn't know much about it. It was a long time ago."

"When it comes to the safety of this operation and the hardworking men and women who sacrifice their Christmas to ensure it, I believe it was worth mentioning. We need to know the risks."

"What operation?" Jack asked. "And who says I'm a risk?"

"You've discovered our secret," Nicolas said, as if that explained everything. "And you have a vortex manipulator. You could change everything."

"The 21st century is when everything changes," Jack murmured, then shook his head because this probably wasn't it. He did not mention that his wrist strap no longer worked. "You still haven't explained what's going on here, underneath  _my_ Hub."

A middle-aged woman materialized nearby, looking extremely agitated. She was covered in some kind of dirt—ash, perhaps—and called for someone immediately. Jack noticed that those who hurried around the most—Meghan and the others running around with data pads and clipboards, coffee and rucksacks—did not wear wrist straps. He suspected they were some sort of assistant, assigned to each time traveler.

Nicolas sighed. "I will let Ianto explain. Excuse me, I need to see to Ms. Maxwell. She appears more annoyed than usual."

Jack didn't have time to protest before the old man left him to speak to the woman covered in dirt and ash. She started talking and gesturing until Nicolas nodded and patted her on the shoulder. He said something to her assistant, who lead her toward one of the tunnels leading away from the cavern. Nicolas gave Jack a thoughtful look, murmured something to a nearby man in black, and took the other exit. If Jack hadn't been waiting for Ianto to return, he would have followed the old man. Then again, the man in black moved closer, as if guarding Jack in Nicolas's absence.

Ianto materialized after a few minutes, stumbling as if he'd been in a hurry when he'd transported. He looked even more exhausted than before, and Jack wondered what Ianto was doing that was so draining. Or perhaps from the look on his face—fear, apprehension, and dread—Ianto was more worried about Jack than overworked by Nicolas.

He handed his empty rucksack to Meghan, who offered him a mug that he waved away. Instead, he hurried over to Jack, still sitting casually on the sofa and watching.

"Thank you for waiting," Ianto started. "I know you must have many questions."

Jack stood and faced him. "It was only a few minutes for me," he said. "How long was it for you?"

Ianto blew out a breath. "Several hours," he said. "Usually we stop to rest, but there's no way I could fall asleep without talking to you."

He looked pale, his eyes dull, his hair slightly out of place and a scuff of dirt on his face. Jack frowned. "Are you okay? How long have you been up?"

"It's been a busy few days," Ianto said. "Normally I'm fine, but I think moving our headquarters here was a mistake. I've been too distracted."

"Worried about being discovered?" Jack suggested. Ianto flinched.

"Yes," he murmured. "And I'm sorry you found out this way. I wish I could have told you, but it's not allowed. Not friends, not family, no one."

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "Thing is, you still haven't told me anything. I have no idea what's going on, except that there's a dozen men and women using vortex manipulators to come and go from the Hub as they please. And that you have another boss and a cute assistant," he added.

Ianto's eyes slipped closed. "We should talk somewhere else. Can we go back to your office?"

"I don't know," Jack replied. "Will your other boss let you?"

Ianto flinched once again. "I think so. I've told him about you, so it can't be a complete surprise that you're here."

Nicolas appeared behind Ianto, causing him to jump. "Considering you assured me complete safety and secrecy, yes, it is a surprise. Especially that wrist strap."

Ianto did not reply.

"However," Nicolas continued. "I suspect we can work something out." He raised an eyebrow. "And he is very handsome. You look quite good together." He was obviously holding back a smile. Ianto looked gobsmacked.

"What?" he asked. "But I never—I'm not—we're aren't—"

Jack rolled his yes. "He is, and we are. Come Ianto, let's go have a chat."

He took Ianto's hand and lead him out of the cavern without a look back, determined to understand what was going on. And if possible, to salvage something from this unexpected Christmas surprise.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was not exactly what I expected when I set out to write a holiday story! I had several fun prompts on Tumblr and a slightly different idea in my head, but this came out instead. I'd suggest not thinking too hard from here on out. Thank you for still reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Coffee?" Ianto asked as soon as they reached the main part of the Hub. He walked toward the coffee machine without waiting for an answer. Along with a dozen different emotions, Jack couldn't help but feel amused; Ianto was clearly more nervous than usual.

"I'm fine," Jack called. Ianto turned around, hands on his hips.

"Oh," he said, as if the idea of anyone not wanting coffee was confusing. "Well, I need it."

"Sure you don't need something stronger?" Jack asked lightly.

"That would be brilliant," Ianto said, then shook his head. "But I still have more jumps to make. Should probably keep my head on straight or I might end up stuck in a chimney somewhere." He turned without waiting for Jack's response.

"Right," Jack murmured. "More jumps." Ianto's shoulders tensed, but he did not turn around. He made two cups of coffee while they stood in silence, handing it to Jack with a rueful smile.

"You might want it too," he said. Jack nodded as he sipped at the warm drink.

"That bad, huh?" he asked.

"I hope not," Ianto replied.

"Let's sit," Jack said. "Could be a while."

"I've got more jumps—" Ianto protested.

"You've got a vortex manipulator," Jack said. He walked over to the sofa and sat down. "Sort of makes time less of an issue, so let's start with that. Are you a Time Agent? From the future?"

"No!" Ianto exclaimed, looking shocked at the idea. "I am exactly who I said I am. Ianto Jones, born 1983. I happen to have another job on the side, and it certainly does not involve working for some sketchy time agency." Ianto sat down next to him, as if he'd had to work himself up to it, and set down his mug only to fiddle with his hands. "It's complicated."

"Always is around here," Jack said with false cheer. "So this second job—Torchwood not pay enough?"

"It's not like that," Ianto started, but Jack cut him off.

"Then tell me what it is. Why you're wearing a working vortex manipulator, something I know won't be invented for thousands of years. Why there are dozens of people time jumping in and out of a cave in the Hub. Why you've been so distracted, why you're obviously so tired." He paused. "And why you didn't tell me."

Ianto laughed nervously and picked up his mug again, as if it might shield him from whatever might happen as he tried to answer Jack's questions. "I already answered that last. We're not allowed to tell anyone. Ever. I signed a binding contract, even more strict than Torchwood. I'm sorry, but it's not my secret to share, it's much bigger than me."

"Okay," Jack replied, still not quite understanding, but he kept his own secrets so he couldn't condemn Ianto for his. "But I literally walked right into it, so I deserve an explanation now."

"Yes, you do," Ianto said with a sigh. "Only I don't even know where to start." He took a deep breath. "Okay, not long after I started working at Torchwood One, I was approached by the man you met downstairs, Nicolas Garras. He had a job opening and wanted to recruit me for his team. I'd only been at Torchwood for a few months and couldn't see why he'd want me to join any kind of team—I was new, inexperienced, a bit of a mess at times. Definitely had my share of misadventures."

"At Torchwood One?" Jack asked. Ianto rarely talked about his time in London, and now Jack was regretting not asking about it. He'd frequently suspected that Ianto did far more there than he'd let on—his skill set was too strong and varied for a junior researcher—but Jack had certainly not expected something this big.

"You have no idea," Ianto murmured. "But that's not the point. He explained what it was he did, and although I was skeptical, I agreed. I half thought it was a hazing prank, but when Nicolas returned three months later for my training, I found it was real. And it was amazing."

Jack was silent, waiting for Ianto to get to the point.

"Nicolas runs the Northern Division of the Children's Christmas Campaign. We spend all of December jumping through time and space to deliver gifts to every child in our assigned branch." Ianto smiled. "Which, for me, is all of Wales."

Jack stared at him, struck speechless. Ianto's smile faltered. His eyebrows pulled together and he frowned. "I know it sounds incredible, but I'm not making it up. We have a team that keeps tabs on the children, tracking locations and assigning gifts. Then there's another team that does the shopping—what an awful job that must be—and a team that wraps and labels. Finally, there's the tech team that sets up the jump schedule and locations for the delivery teams. I'm part of the delivery team."

"You're a delivery boy?" Jack asked without thinking. Ianto's eyes flashed and he sat up straighter, setting down his mug harder than he intended. He looked about ready to shake his finger in Jack's face, but clasped his hands tightly instead.

"I'm in charge of package delivery for almost 600,000 children in Wales," he said, his voice tight. "I have a team of two dozen jumpers who spend a month in real time plus a month in virtual time ensuring prompt delivery on Christmas Eve. Most of it is automated now, but technology can't replace human beings everywhere, so we jump to the delivery point in time, drop off the gift, and return for our next load."

Jack continued to stare at him, shaking the disbelief from his shoulders to speak. "That's impossible. The logistics of something that massive would never work."

"It's a bureaucracy on an unprecedented scale," Ianto agreed. "Sometimes I don't know how we do it. As a branch manager, I've seen some of the inside operations, and it's staggering. And how Nicolas coordinates it all is beyond me." He shook his head. "He's amazing, Jack. He spends the entire year doing this, getting ready for one night. He takes a week off and is right back at it, going on four decades now."

"So, he's Father Christmas?" Jack asked. "The old man downstairs in red robes? Santa Claus?"

"If you want to think of him that way," Ianto replied with a shrug and a smile. "To me, he's a very strict boss. He has a heart of gold, though.

"What's he doing here in the Hub?" Jack asked.

"You were lucky enough to find him on a supervisory visit," Ianto admitted ruefully. "He wanted to see how the Hub was working out."

"Ah, the Hub." Jack tried not to get irritated. "So how is it that the Hub is your headquarters? Or has it always been down there and we've simply not seen it for a hundred years?"

"No, we moved here about mid-year," Ianto admitted. "It was my idea. After I joined Torchwood Three and started learning more about the Rift, I thought it might help us to harness its power, get things done quicker. And it has," he added. "I tried a few jumps from here last here. It's perfectly safe, but it adds a power boost to the tech, that's all."

"Right." Jack stood up and started pacing, unable to keep his incredulity bottled up any longer. "Do you hear what you're saying? What you're asking me to believe? It's impossible!"

"I know it sounds impossible," Ianto agreed. "But it's happening, right now. You saw it. I'm not lying."

"You work for Santa Claus."

"I continue the work of Nicholas of Myra," Ianto told him. "He was a time traveler who began the tradition of leaving surprise gifts in the village where he lived. He saw what an impact it had and continued year after year. He recruited an assistant and they spread out through surrounding towns and villages. From that one village it grew, handed down generation after generation to a new Nicholas."

"No," Jack insisted. "The original St. Nicholas was not a Time Agent, that's ridiculous."

"I didn't say he was a Time Agent," Ianto replied. "He was a time traveler. He traveled to the 4th century, where he settled in Turkey and became the man known as Saint Nicholas. He enjoyed helping people and presenting gifts so much that he ensured the tradition continued after his death."

"But the logistics of it!" Jack exclaimed, still unable to wrap his mind around it the scale of operations. "The sheer number of people involved must be overwhelming!"

"There are thousands of people employed around the globe," Ianto agreed. "Maybe even tens of thousands. We're grouped into a Northern Division and a Southern Division, with regional managers on each continent and branch managers for each country."

"And you run the Wales branch?" Jack asked.

"How do you think it was so easy for me to manage the Hub so quickly?" Ianto asked. "I spent two years as a general jumper before the old manager retired and Nicolas appointed me to take over."

Jack thought about it. Some of it made sense, like Ianto's ability to coordinate and organize. Other things were too impossible to imagine. Hundreds of thousands of children across Wales, receiving gifts from some time-traveling group of benevolent elves hiding in his Hub?

"Where does the money come from?" Jack demanded.

"Future investments," Ianto replied with a shrug.

"And the tech? If Saint Nicholas started all this, he had one vortex manipulator. But it would take thousands to do what you're proposing. Where did they come from?"

"Also the future," Ianto said. "Look, I don't know how everything works. Sometimes I don't even understand how I'm not creating some sort of paradox every time I jump! We have a dozen people on manipulator duty who handle the timing and coordinates. But I know it's real. Every year on December 1st we receive our assignments and our wrist strap. And then on December 26th we turn them in and get our paycheck. Which is actually quite small," he added. "We don't do this for the money."

"Why do you do it then?" Jack asked. "And how is it no one  _knows_  about this?"

"We do it so that every year, every child on earth receives a gift. It may be the only gift they receive all year. No one knows because we're good at it. It's something small, but something special, maybe something they need, slipped under a tree or left somewhere inconspicuous. People wonder, but that's part of it, isn't it? The wonder." He smiled at his wordplay, but Jack wasn't amused anymore. He was growing more and more agitated.

"Every child? Across the world?" Ianto nodded. "What if they don't celebrate Christmas? There are billions of people who don't believe in Jesus Christ, in Santa Claus. What about all those children?"

"They receive something as well," Ianto replied easily. "We leave something for everyone, no matter their beliefs. Food, clothing, something they need, something they want. We may not leave it for them on Christmas Day—there are many other celebrations surrounding the winter solstice, after all—but they will receive something, everywhere."

Jack walked back to the sofa, where Ianto was still sitting, looking nervous about Jack's reaction. As well he should. Jack sat down and let his elbows fall to his knees as he blew out a long breath.

"I don't know if I can believe you," he started. "I know I saw something down there, but what you're telling me…Santa Claus? Ianto, please tell me this is all a bizarre dream. Or a joke. Or a test of some sort."

Ianto looked as if someone had slapped him across the face. He stood up, looking down on Jack with a hurt look on his face. "I wouldn't make this up, Jack. I wouldn't lie to you. This is the most amazing thing in the world happening right now, and I can't keep trying to convince you. I have more deliveries to make. We can talk later."

He turned around to leave, only to find Nicolas standing nearby, gazing around the Hub in curiosity. Jack jumped to his feet, his instinct to pull his weapon, but he stopped himself this time. Deep down, he knew Nicolas wasn't a threat. That didn't mean he liked having the man in his top secret underground base.

"Interesting place," Nicolas commented. "Quite…spacious."

"I'm sorry," Ianto said, hurrying toward him. "I was just on my way back—"

"Hmm." Nicolas nodded at him, then looked back at Jack. "And how did it go? Not well, I gather."

"He doesn't believe me," Ianto murmured, and it practically broke Jack's heart to hear the disappointment in Ianto's voice.

"I'm not surprised," Nicolas replied. "This is quite beyond what even someone like him has encountered."

"Someone like me?" Jack asked, joining them by the water tower and the pool. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a Time Agent," Nicolas replied. "You've seen and done much. You're from a time where science and technology has cast faith aside. And you're much older than you look," he added, his eyes twinkling. "Age sometimes has a way of bestowing more skepticism than belief."

"I want to believe," Jack replied. "But it's too much."

"It's also quite real," Nicolas replied. "Would you like to see?"

"What?" asked Ianto.

"How?" asked Jack.

Nicolas checked his wrist strap before looking up with a smile. "Why don't we all accompany Ianto on his next jump?"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tech division is good, and the wrist straps are configured to cancel any effects of crossing one's timeline, thus enabling the jumpers to jump to times where they already exist. Though I've thought through a lot of this operation, there are probably many things I did not consider. I'm kind of with Jack, that in reality, it would be virtually impossible. On the other hand, I believe in future technology and a little bit of Christmas magic. Thank you for reading! Happy holidays, may they be filled with wonder!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Jack followed Nicolas and Ianto down to their secret headquarters below the Hub. It still burned, that something so massive was hiding right below him, but now that he knew more about the operation and the reasons behind it, he was starting to see things in a different light. It was still slightly unbelievable, but fascinating and even inspiring. He could only imagine the hard work happening around the world that night.

The jumpers all looked as exhausted as Ianto, as did their assistants. He saw an older woman help a jumper adjust her wrist strap before patting her on the shoulder; she smiley gamely but looked ready to collapse. Several people stood in the small kitchenette area, eating and drinking, and a few sat on the sofas, heads back and eyes closed, one even covered in a blanket and snoring lightly.

Jack noticed an assistant rushing over from one of the side tunnels, carrying the bag that must have been filled with gifts. He frowned, wondering how so much could possibly be stored in an old tunnel. Ianto saw him looking and offered an explanation.

"Transmat," he said. "We transport what we need when we need it."

"And where is it until then?" Jack asked.

"The North Pole, of course!" Nicolas answered with a wink. He walked over to talk to one of the men in black. Jack had the distinct impression they were both his elves and his army.

"Sometimes I half believe him," Ianto mused from beside him. "There's so much we don't know, don't understand. So much we take on faith. It's as much about the tech as it is about simply believing it's possible. I think if I tried too hard to work it out, I'd go mad."

"I get the feeling," Jack murmured in agreement.

Meghan hurried up to them then. She looked as tired as everyone else, though she apparently felt it was her duty to smile and stay positive and energetic. She glanced quickly at Jack before addressing Ianto.

"Mr. Jones," she started, but he stopped her with an epic eye roll accompanied by a sigh.

"No need to impress anyone, Meghan. You called me that once and I told you to never call me that again."

"If you say so, Ianto," she grinned, dropping the proper PA routine. "Just trying to help."

"I'm not sure anything will help," Ianto muttered, looking down and avoiding Jack's curious gaze. Apparently Ianto was still worried about Jack's reaction.

"Hi," he said, holding out his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness."

"Meghan O'Toole," she said, shaking his hand with a confident grasp. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

"Oh, only Ianto calls me sir," Jack replied, grinning when Ianto looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. "You can call me Jack. What do you do around here, Meghan?"

"I'm Ianto's assistant," she said. "I gather his deliveries, keep him on schedule, make sure he has coffee and food, things like that."

"Sounds like what he does for me." Jack laughed, while Ianto covered his face and suppressed a groan. "And he's brilliant at it, so I hope you're just as good."

"He's certainly quite particular," she said with a smile. "And yes, I am."

"I'm meticulous," Ianto interjected, stepping closer. "Meghan, Jack is joining me on my next jump."

Her eyes went wide. "Really? Isn't that against the rules? Does Nicolas know?"

"It was his idea," Ianto replied dryly. "I'm not sure what he's thinking. Where are we scheduled for next?"

She glanced down at a tablet. "Let's see…you were scheduled to start Swansea with Will and Charlotte, but maybe we can re-route you to a smaller delivery first." She tapped on her tablet before glancing up. "Llanwddyn," she said. "Small village in Powys, so one bag, about two dozen jumps."

Ianto frowned. "I remember it, it's the one with the dog, but that's a lot of deliveries in one go. I suppose Jack can always jump back with Nicolas. All right, can you get the gifts ready? I think Nicolas is talking to security and tech."

"Security?" Jack asked in surprise as Meghan hurried away to get Ianto's deliveries. "I'm not a threat. In fact, shouldn't I be the one worried about security here in the Hub?"

"We're not a threat either," Ianto replied, sounding weary. "We've got protections at all the perimeters, though it was made clear that no one was to go wandering. I imagine he's simply letting them know he'll be gone and getting the jump coordinates for my deliveries."

Nicolas returned at that moment, adjusting his wrist strap. It was slightly different than Ianto's manipulator, and Jack wondered if it was some sort of master control. Nicolas caught him looking at it.

"I've got the fancy upgrade," he said. "Mine is the only one capable of jumping more than a month in time, and I can get to any delivery if there's an emergency. I can also carry multiple passengers, so you'll be traveling with me." Jack was about to protest that he'd travel with Ianto, but Nicolas continued. "I know you have your own manipulator, but it would take too long to program it for what we do."

Jack looked at him in surprise, since the thought hadn't even occurred to him. "It doesn't work anyway," he said without thinking. Nicolas looked genuinely surprised.

"It doesn't work? How so?"

"No time travel, not even basic teleportation," Jack said. He couldn't help but sound bitter, because it still stung that the Doctor had felt the need to police him and disable the wrist strap so soon after fixing it.

"We might be able to fix it," Nicolas began, but Jack cut him off.

"It's been disabled," he said. "And probably for reasons I'll understand better one day in the far, far future." He looked away to avoid any looks of pity from Nicolas, or worse, from Ianto.

"I see," Nicolas murmured. "Well, Mark has programed Ianto's next jump for me—"

"Meghan rerouted us through Llanwddyn," Ianto interrupted. "Small village, better for a first-time jumper."

"I saw," Nicolas said. "It popped up while he was laying in Swansea. A good decision. As soon as Meghan returns, we'll depart. I'm afraid you'll still have to jump with me, Captain Harkness."

"And what exactly will we be doing?" Jack asked.

"We will be observing," Nicolas replied. "Which is why you're jumping with me, as I have stealth mode." He held up his wrist with an affected pose.

"There's no such thing on a vortex manipulator!" Jack exclaimed. "At least, not that I've ever seen."

"I told you, I've got the deluxe version," Nicolas laughed. "It was actually designed specifically for us. I'm beta testing it."

"So instead of making us invisible it could rip us apart?"

"Of course not," Nicolas huffed. "Though whether anyone will be able to see you when we return remains to be seen."

"He's joking," Ianto interjected. "I've seen him use it already, it works fine."

"Spoil my fun," Nicolas grumbled.

Before either Jack or Ianto could reply, Meghan returned with a sack for Ianto. Though it was large and Jack was fairly sure a baseball bat was poking out of the top, it certainly didn't look like enough for over two dozen Christmas deliveries.

"Is that everything?" he asked. Ianto nodded as he hefted it over his shoulder.

"Bigger on the inside," he said. "Something about an alternate dimension, I think?"

"Dimensional transcendentalism," Jack said approvingly. "Dimensional engineering. Very clever—and useful."

"We'd be rich if we could market it for wardrobes," Ianto deadpanned. He looked over Meghan's tablet, double-checked his wrist strap, then signed off with a nod.

"Thank you, Meghan."

"Good luck," she said. "You'll want to start Swansea when you return?"

"Yes," he replied. "Shouldn't be long—assuming someone doesn't cause any problems."

"Who, me?" Jack asked innocently at the same time as Nicolas said the same thing. They all shared a laugh.

"Let's go," said Nicolas. "It's time for Captain Harkness to see the true magic of Christmas."

Jack laid his hand on the old man's left arm, nodded at Ianto, then waited for the crushing compression of dematerialization. It was time for a Christmas miracle.

* * *

Their first stop seemed relatively normal: a small, darkened room in what Jack assumed was an equally small home, probably a semi-detached cottage somewhere in the Welsh countryside. It was old and slightly run-down, but the crowded, well-worn furniture spoke more of love than lack of means, and the house felt warm and comfortable.

There was a crooked evergreen tree near a cut out fireplace housing an ancient stove. It was glowing with fairy lights and strewn with sentimental ornaments. Beneath the tree were a small number of wrapped packages. Ianto quickly stepped forward and checked his wrist strap, then pulled the baseball bat from his sack, scanned it, and placed it beneath the tree amongst the others. He stepped back, punched his wrist strap once more, and nodded at Jack.

"It's that easy," he said, smiling. "Next stop."

The next home was much smaller, much darker, and much colder. The furniture was old, the walls bare, the carpet worn. This was a family who couldn't afford a tree; Jack wondered if they could afford food. There was only a single gift by the fireplace. Ianto placed four packages beside it, his demeanor more serious.

"Why four gifts?" Jack asked quietly.

"Four children," Ianto replied.

"Here?" Jack barely stopped himself from exclaiming in surprise. "But there's hardly enough room for one child, let alone four! And there was only one present when you arrived."

"They can't afford any more," Ianto replied. "I was here last year as well, I remember it. These are the hard ones, knowing there are so many kids growing up with so little. Even more difficult are the shelters, the orphanages, or the homeless jumps."

Jack gazed around, seeing the poverty written into the life of the home. He wished he could leave something, and started to pull out his wallet as it was all he had, but Nicolas stopped him.

"You're a good man, Captain," he said softly. "But that's not our purpose tonight. Others can help during the year, but our job is to ensure at least one smile, one happy moment, on Christmas morning when they wake up."

"Do you know what the gifts are?" Jack asked. Ianto nodded. "What they want? Or need?"

"Gifts are all programmed into my wrist strap. The team that handles location and presents knows more about each family, though. Privacy concerns don't let us access anything about them."

"How do they know? It must be hard enough to locate every child in the world, but to know what to get them?"

Ianto shrugged and did not answer, so Jack turned to Nicolas. He merely touched his nose with a wink. "Trade secrets," he said. "Next jump?" And without waiting, he took Jack's arm and left the cold, dark room. Jack was glad those children would all wake up to a gift of their own.

The homes they visited came from all walks of life: from average to impoverished to exceptionally well-off. There was a two-room cottage that was in deplorable shape, barely habitable with no decorations in sight, and a large detached home, richly decorated, that sat in the middle of the Welsh countryside surrounded by rolling fields, with a nine-foot Christmas tree guarding a dozen carefully wrapped packages. Jack knew that life dealt every family a different hand, but seeing it up close was eye-opening and humbling.

They jumped to a home where a young child who couldn't have been more than five or six years old was sleeping soundly on an old sofa with a hand-knit blanket laid over her. Ianto smiled, put a finger to his lips, and tip-toed to the tree, where he laid her gift next to what was clearly a new bicycle. Jack wondered how her parents had slipped that past her.

At their next stop, Jack couldn't help but wonder about the girl. "Do they ever wake up?" he asked as Ianto took out a flat package—probably a book, judging by the full shelves behind him, cluttered with tomes of every shape and size. "What if they see you?"

"It happens," Ianto replied. "Not often, but we're trained on how to handle it. The majority of the time we're written off as a dream, but once in a while we'll get a good shout-out."

"A shout-out?"

"A child who shouts for the rest of the family. In which case, we wink and leave—emergency departure programmed into our wrist strap—and attempt again later."

"And then what?" Jack asked. They were in the back room of yet another Welsh semi-detached, an oversized Christmas tree in the far corner bursting with lights and tinsel.

"We can usually make the delivery at an earlier time, but it's handed off to another jumper. And if that doesn't work, Nicolas sends in a team."

"My very own special ops," Nicolas chuckled. "Who could be out of a job if we adopt stealth mode for all the manipulators, now that I think about it. And the Scots team would be so disappointed."

"A lot of people like the danger," Ianto said when Jack gave him a curious look. "The risk of being discovered, the adrenaline rush of sneaking around—all for a good cause, of course," he added. "I don't mind, but I'd adopt stealth mode in a second. Then I could deliver Mica and David's gifts."

"That's your niece and nephew?" Jack was relieved he remembered the names of Ianto's relatives.

"We're not allowed to deliver to anyone we know," Ianto grumbled. "Rules of conduct, in case of discovery."

"We've let people go for breaking them," Nicolas added. "Speaking of which, we're not here for tea. We should continue before we wake anyone with this scintillating conversation."

"Sorry," Ianto murmured, but he exchanged an amused look with Jack, as if he were finally starting to relax and not worry as much about Jack's reaction to his secret. Jack was glad, because he could see how much this meant to Ianto, how much he enjoyed each jump, each gift he left for a child. Jack felt a sense of pride begin to override his surprise and hurt at learning about Ianto's second job and the mammoth secret operation beneath the Hub.

They jumped a few more times before they came to a home where a brown dog slept beside the fireplace. It jumped up immediately, tail wagging furiously. Ianto must have known what to expect, because he took a treat from his pocket and held it to the animal, who took it happily and licked his hand while Ianto petted him.

"Wish I knew his name," Ianto whispered. "Third year in a row I've met him here."

"Do you always carry treats?" Jack asked, trying to hold back a laugh. The dog—some sort of terrier mix—turned toward him and barked loudly. Jack swore under his breath. "And does stealth mode not include sound dampening?"

"I don't believe so," Nicolas murmured. "And he can probably smell us as well." The dog continued to bark. "Time to go—we'll meet you at the next stop, Ianto."

Ianto shook his head as he held out another treat, quieting the dog. Jack held on to Nicolas as they transported to the next home to wait for Ianto. Jack wanted to ask a dozen questions, but the Welshman arrived not long after and set about placing several gifts under the tree.

"Five more jumps," he said. "Did you want to go back to the Hub with Nicolas?"

Jack shook his head. "No way. This is fascinating—seeing what you do, seeing how people live, how they celebrate Christmas."

"Life is quite different outside of the Hub," Ianto replied dryly, but with no malice. Jack almost stuck his tongue out, beause Ianto was as guilty of working too much as any of them.

"And outside Cardiff, not to mention—" He almost said something about how things had changed over the years, but stopped himself in time. He had a strange feeling that Nicolas knew, however, because the older man nodded in agreement.

"Well, I don't know many kids," Jack finished lamely.

"Then let's finish," Ianto said. "I'm getting hungry." He glanced sheepishly at Nicolas. "I sort of rushed through my last few bags."

"I noticed," Nicolas replied. "An energy bar won't get you through Christmas Eve, Ianto. You'll need a proper meal when we get back."

"I can pick up something," Jack offered immediately. He'd planned on spending the night with Ianto, cooking and eating and enjoying Christmas together; even if they had to eat fish and chips in a cave, it would be worth it to be together for the holiday. And Jack still had so many questions. They'd simply exchange their gifts—and other things—later.

"Everything's closed," Ianto pointed out. "And that's what we have assistants for."

"Where do they get food if everything's closed?" Jack asked. "Don't tell me you have a catering team!"

Ianto laughed quietly through his nose. "No, but that's a good idea. Usually they pick something up ahead of time, or we snack our way through the day. On Christmas Eve, though, we usually jump for food. It's sort of a tradition that jumpers treat their assistants to a nice dinner on Christmas."

"Jump?"

"Jump back to yesterday, maybe, and either pick up something or eat out." Ianto shrugged. "Last year we went to a kebab shop in Barry. I can pick up something a little nicer, if you don't mind eating with Meghan."

"It's fine," Jack said, though he would have preferred spending time with Ianto by himself. He felt Nicolas watching him, as if reading Jack's thoughts. Still, there would be time after Ianto finished his deliveries. "As long as she doesn't mind me asking a dozen questions!"

Ianto rolled his eyes and they set off for their last few homes. There were no more sleeping children, no more pets, and the deliveries all went quickly and smoothly. They were back in the Hub before Jack knew it; he was almost sad it was over. He wondered how many times Ianto did this—how many nights and weekends had he given up over the past month?

"Welcome back!" Meghan said, hurrying up to them and taking Ianto's bag. Nicolas excused himself and left to speak with one of the mysterious men in black. "How did it go?" She paused and glanced at Jack, but smiled. "With a first-timer?"

"Perfectly," Ianto said, sounding surprised. "Which is remarkable, considering there were three of us. We didn't wake anyone, we weren't attacked by any pets, and everything went fine. Thank you," he told Meghan with a warm smile, then turned to Jack. "And thank you. I hope it helped you understand better."

"It definitely helped," Jack said, wanting to say more but not in front of others. He wanted to tell Ianto that he was amazing, that Jack was so proud, that he wished he could help in some small way. "I think what you're doing here, all of you, is pretty special. Thank you for sharing it with me."

Ianto looked surprised at Jack's compliments and gratitude; he made note to thank Ianto more often for what he did around the Hub, let alone for the rest of the world. The Welshman looked almost flustered as he remained speechless, while Meghan glanced back and forth between them before clearing her throat.

"Did you want to start on Swansea?" she asked tentatively. Ianto shook his head.

"No, I need a break, I'm starving. Do you like Italian?"

"Love it," she said. "Eggplant parmesan is my favorite."

"Great," Ianto said. "I know a little place in Caerphilly, and I know for a fact none of us were there yesterday. Care for a quick Christmas dinner?"

"Absolutely," Jack said. "Something spicy, please. I'll be in my office, I want to check on—"

"You're coming," Ianto interrupted, then glanced at Meghan. "Both of you."

"Are you allowed to bring passengers?" Jack asked. "I thought only Nicolas could do that."

"We all have a plus one," Ianto joked. "Like I said, last year Meghan and I went to Barry. And I can get Mark in tech to tweak it for two. We can jump to Caerphilly, have dinner, and be back in ten minutes."

Meghan shook her head. "You should go, I don't want to intrude." She held up a hand when Ianto protested. "Really, Ianto. I don't want to be a third wheel, I'm sure you have a lot to talk about. And then you don't have to bribe Mark. If you could bring me some eggplant parmesan, though, you'd be a wonderful boss."

He nodded. "Of course we will. How about a dessert run later? Favorite ice cream place?"

Her eyes lit up. "Brilliant! I'll let Nicolas know you're on your dinner break and get you ready for Swansea. I can eat while you jump."

"You shouldn't have to eat alone down here," Jack protested, though he was looking forward to the time with Ianto. She seemed nice, however, and he didn't want to ruin the tradition of jumpers eating with their assistants, especially on Christmas.

"I won't," she said, and winked. "I'll eat with Mark in tech."

"I knew it!" Ianto laughed. "I'll bring something for you both then. Thank you."

"Thank you," she said. "See you in ten."

Ianto nodded and guided Jack toward the tunnel leading back up to the Hub. "You sure this is okay?" Jack asked quietly. "I don't want to get you into more trouble than I already have."

"We deserve at least ten minutes together on Christmas, don't you think? It's one jump to get something to eat." He glanced back, lowered his voice, and tapped his wrist strap. "Although I can travel through time, so we could always stop at mine, if you wanted."

"Dinner and a quickie?" Jack asked with a laugh. "I like the way you think!"

"It would definitely help get me through the rest of the night," Ianto grinned. "Although, I shouldn't be too late. I think I've only got a few more jumps after Swansea."

"Sounds good." Jack pulled Ianto to a stop in the tunnel and wrapped his arms around the Welshman's waist. Now was the time to say something, assuming the words would come. "Ianto, I…well, I'm sorry I walked in on you, and that I reacted so badly. But thank you for sharing this with me, for allowing me to join you and see what's really happening on Christmas around the world. It's amazing." He leaned forward and kissed Ianto. "You're amazing. Happy Christmas."

"Thank you," Ianto replied, sounding genuinely surprised and touched. He smiled and kissed Jack back. "Happy Christmas, Jack. Let's go celebrate a little before the night is over."

Jack took his hand and squeezed it affectionately, for he knew this would be one holiday he would always remember. He had not only met Father Christmas, but he was spending the night with an incredible man. It couldn't get any better, and Jack looked forward to many more Christmas holidays together.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay on this chapter! We traveled over the holidays and played Pass-the-Christmas-Virus around the family, with at least five of us down and two more sniffling. I'm starting to feel better and hope to finish the epilogue soon. I hope you enjoyed this look at Ianto on the job! Thank you for reading and Happy New Year!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jack looked up at the familiar sky, unusually clear and bright this New Year's Eve. He wasn't sure why he'd come back to Wales; it had been decades since he'd last seen Cardiff. He'd never thought to return after Gwen Cooper and Rhys Williams had died, for they were his last connection to Earth, and to Torchwood, and there had been nothing else to stay for anymore, not really. Even Anwen had seemed to understand, though she had been sad, and her brother angry, that Uncle Jack was leaving, that their children would never know him. But Gwen was gone, and Rhys with her, and so Jack had left as well. For good.

Perhaps he had come back to watch the turning of the century. He'd seen two centuries pass in Cardiff, why not a third? The 21st century had indeed been when everything changed, and a part of him wanted to wish it a fond farewell—with a perhaps small kick in the arse.

Jack had to admit that he'd come to love his adopted home planet, and Wales, and even Cardiff. Though he'd spent decades waiting for the Doctor, refusing to settle down, there had been times of beauty and happiness, moments he would never forget. And once he'd accepted who he was and what he was doing, he had truly settled down, found love and purpose and even a family of sorts. Those years were some of his most precious memories.

It hadn't lasted—it never did for him and probably never would. His unique place in the cosmos ensured that nothing would survive but him. Yet he didn't regret the things he'd done, the places he'd seen, the life he'd lived—the men and women he had loved and lost. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He regretted one, but it wasn't falling in love that he regretted. He'd been happy for a time, uncommonly happy. It was leading that man to his death that Jack regretted and mourned, and always would.

Ianto Jones hadn't deserved to die. He had been a broken man finally beginning to heal when he'd faithfully walked into Thames House in London and died at Jack's side. That's what still hurt, even after ninety years. He'd always known he'd lose Ianto, and he'd always suspected it would be sooner rather than later; yet they'd had so little time together, it was unfair. And it had been so hard for them to accept and share and act on their feelings, that, more than anything, Jack's biggest regret was not telling Ianto how he felt, when he'd felt it for so long.

Though the stars remained the same, the bay looked different now, from the buildings and boats to the coastline itself. There was no tourist office, no familiar boardwalk to walk upon. No Plass, no Millennium Centre, no Pierhead building. He gazed at something almost unrecognizable and wondered again why he had come back. It hurt to see how Cardiff had moved on without him. It was, that night, a bitter reminder of the happier times he had experienced there, particularly with Ianto Jones.

He turned to leave it all behind yet again when a voice behind him called out. "Captain Harkness!"

A older man stood nearby, dressed in scarlet robes. He had a full white beard and wore glasses, and was pulling his sleeve down as he approached. He looked like a modern Father Christmas, which was when Jack remembered exactly who this man was.

"Nicolas Garras," he said, holding out his hand. "You're looking exceptionally good for your age. I didn't realize it was one of the perks of the job." Jack had met Nicolas decades earlier, when he had walked in on one of Ianto's greatest secrets beneath the Hub: an army of men and women delivering gifts to the world every Christmas. Nicolas had been in charge, and he had been old then.

Yet more than ninety years had passed since that night. How had Nicolas managed to survive so long? And look so good?

"It's not," Nicolas replied, a familiar twinkle in his eye. "But this is." He showed Jack the vortex manipulator on his wrist, and Jack nodded in understanding, wondering why he hadn't worked it out immediately. Or maybe he had, and had pushed it from his mind.

"Of course. You've jumped in time. What year, then?"

"Actually, we met about a year ago," Nicolas replied.

Jack frowned as he gazed back through his memories, to that Christmas Eve long ago. He'd found Ianto in a cavern, jumping through time delivering Christmas presents all over Wales. And he'd had a difficult time accepting it, until Nicolas had taken him along for the ride—sans reindeer, of course.

"So…2007, then?" Jack asked. "No, 2008. That was the year I found out. I had such a hard time believing it that you let me jump with you."

"You did seem to struggle," Nicolas laughed. "But you came around. How are you, Captain?"

Jack tucked his hands into his pockets—he was wearing a long leather duster, more like the Doctor and less like his own vintage greatcoats from his time in Wales. He shrugged, memories returning to flood him with emotions: of a meeting in the park, of a pinstripe suit, of heartbreak and laughter and a single, special Christmas. "Still kicking around," he eventually answered. "And you?"

Nicolas smiled. "I'm well. We wrapped up this year's schedule a few days ago, so I've got a week off."

"Everything go smoothly?" Jack asked.

"We were down a man," Nicolas replied, then continued when Jack didn't say anything. "We missed Mr. Jones."

"Ianto Jones," Jack murmured, gazing out at the water. "He died that fall and wasn't able to be there for Christmas. Yes, he was missed." Jack felt his chest catch, the pain of losing a loved one washing over him even after so many years.

"I didn't see you around either," Nicolas said after a long moment of silence. "You left Cardiff."

"There wasn't anything left for me, not at that point. Ianto was gone, my grandson was dead, Gwen was in hiding, Torchwood disbanded. I left Cardiff, left Wales…and then I left Earth for good."

"And now you're back."

"Now I'm back." Jack didn't want to talk about that, though. "So what brings you all the way to 2099?"

"I wanted to see you, of course. To see how an immortal deals with the years."

Jack cocked his head. "How did you know I was immortal?" he asked.

"You're here, aren't you? And looking exceptionally well-preserved yourself."

Jack tried not to grimace at the thought of being well-preserved. "Maybe I time traveled as well."

"You said your manipulator no longer jumps through time."

"Maybe I got it fixed."

"You said it was disabled for a reason." Nicolas paused and offered a small smile. "Besides, this isn't my first stop since I left 2009. I admit, I was curious and concerned. So how have you been, Captain?"

"As you can see, the same as always," Jack replied, hearing the bitterness in his voice. "Unchanging. Eternal."

"What brings you back to Cardiff?" Nicolas asked. "You've been gone for decades. I had a hard time finding you."

"I don't know," Jack replied honestly. "I guess I wanted to see one last New Year's Eve in Wales. I'm planning on leaving the galaxy soon. This century was a good one, but it brought a lot of pain as well. I suppose I wanted to say goodbye, try to take the good with me."

"Like Ianto? Was he some of the good?"

"Yes," Jack whispered. "He was some of the good. Some of the best, but also part of the pain. He died because of me, you know."

Nicolas shook his head. "No, he died doing his job. His other job. He knew the risks of working for Torchwood, Captain. He was always willing to sacrifice his life to protect others. And he died trying to protect the very children he worked so hard to care for at Christmas."

"I know," Jack said, then blew out a breath to stay calm. "But knowing that doesn't change anything—what happened between us, what happened that day, what happened after. It doesn't take away the sadness and regret and longing and—" He stopped. "I know all that, and maybe someday I'll believe it was worth it."

"His death?" Nicolas asked. "Or your relationship?"

Though once he may have grown angry at the older man for his suggestion, instead the long years of experience let Jack shake his head and smile instead. "His death. Our relationship, as short as it was, will always be worth it. But his death will always hurt."

"As I have not had the opportunity to say so yet, I am sorry for your loss, Captain. He was a good, good man." Jack nodded in agreement, a lump in his throat. Nicolas opened his mouth to continue, but his wrist strap beeped. "It appears I am summoned elsewhere. But would you like to have dinner later? I will have a gift for you."

"I thought you only delivered to children," Jack pointed out.

"Special delivery," Nicolas replied, with a twinkle in his eye Jack remembered from their first meeting.

"Christmas is over."

"Special occasion. Please. I'll jump back in time and make a reservation."

Jack missed time travel and being able to do simple things like book reservations or buy tickets. "I don't have anything for you."

"Your acceptance will be my gift," Nicolas replied. "Now, meet me back here at half eight, please. That should give me enough time."

"Time to what?" Jack asked suspiciously. The man was clearly up to something. "You have a vortex manipulator, you could be back in a few minutes."

"I need time in this time." He stepped back and nodded. "For dramatic effect. I will see you in approximately three hours."

"I'll be here," Jack said. "Seeing as I have nowhere else to go."

"Stay safe, then," Nicolas replied. "I've heard of your penchant for getting into trouble."

"You know me well." Jack laughed despite himself. There was something so genuine and engaging about the other man that Jack had couldn't dislike him, even when he'd found out the man had been running a massive Christmas operation beneath the Hub.

Jack had stumbled across it by accident while looking for Ianto on Christmas Eve, stunned at the impossible enormity of it. But when he'd traveled with Ianto and seen what they did, he'd been forced to accept it was real. It was amazing, and it had made him love Ianto even more. He hadn't told the Welshman that, but he'd tried to show him. After Ianto had finished his deliveries and caught up on sleep, they'd celebrated their one and only Christmas together, and it had been wonderful. Jack still held it close as a cherished memory.

He wandered the city for several hours, trying not to grow upset over the changes. His favorite restaurant, closed; his favorite park, and the one where he'd first met Ianto, razed for modern flats; his favorite rooftop long torn down and rebuilt even higher, but with much less personality. He thought about going to see Gwen's family, but decided against it. Anwen would be almost ninety if she were still alive, and Jack knew that even advanced age probably wouldn't keep her from lashing out at him for leaving.

After three hours, he returned to the bay front area where he'd met Nicolas, only to find a dark skinned woman in a deep burgundy pant suit and matching long coat standing there. She had long, black hair and spoke with an English accent when she saw him.

"Captain Harkness?" she asked. Her smile was genuine, and Jack sensed her compassion and charisma. He guessed she was probably in her thirties, and suspected she was successful from the confident way she held herself. Though naturally suspicious, he felt she was someone he could like.

"I'm Captain Harkness," Jack said. She smiled again and held out her hand. He couldn't refuse her friendly and open manner and shook it while she introduced herself.

"My name is Nicole Madan," she said, and Jack picked it up immediately.

"Nicole?" he asked. "Any relation to Nicolas Garras? I was supposed to meet him here for dinner."

Her laugh was bright but sincere. "No relation, other than we have the same job but in different times. I know you were expecting Nicolas, but we thought you might prefer to eat with someone else tonight. He made reservations for dinner nearby."

"If you know the way, I will happily buy you a drink," Jack said, giving her a slight bow and a dazzling smile of his own.

"None of that!" she laughed again, and held up her right hand. "I heard you were a bit of a flirt. I'm married and not looking for anything else."

"And where did you hear about me?" Jack asked. He had a feeling it was Nicolas, but how would Nicolas know Jack was a flirt? He hadn't flirted with the other man at all. Maybe Ianto had talked about him and Nicolas had passed it on.

"Oh, here and there," she said. "We're going to Les Chances, it's close by and quite good."

They walked toward a posh-looking restaurant and were seated immediately at one of only open tables near the back. Nicole ordered a drink Jack had never heard of, while Jack played it old fashioned and asked for a scotch on the rocks. He was curious about many things now: where was Nicolas, and why had he sent his contemporary in his stead?

They made small talk about Cardiff until their drinks arrived. Nicole raised her glass in a toast. "Happy New Year, Captain Harkness, and to many more here in Cardiff."

He touched her glass and took a deep drink; it was not nearly as strong as he remembered. Setting it down, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I told Nicolas I was leaving Cardiff, but I suspect you already know that."

She nodded. "He mentioned that. I'm here to convince you to stay."

"Sorry, but we just met," Jack said. "I've left behind far more than strangers on the street."

"I realize you don't know me," she said, and she was clearly hiding a smile. "But I'm hoping you'll come work for me anyway."

"Work for you?" Jack stared at her, speechless for a moment. She nodded, smiled broadly, and sipped at her drink while he tried to figure out what was going on. "Nicolas said he had a gift for me, is this it? A job offer?"

"Not exactly," she said. "We're offering you a second chance, Captain. At a happy life, right here in Cardiff."

"I had a happy life here in Cardiff," Jack snapped. "And every time I started to enjoy it, it was taken away from me. That's why I left, because I was tired of finding happiness and losing it."

"I know," she said softly. "I've heard about your long years here in Cardiff."

"From who?" Jack demanded.

"Here and there," she said again. Jack was growing annoyed.

"Look, I knew Nicolas and I liked him. I don't know you and I don't like your mind games. What's going on?"

"I want you to work with me," she said again, dropping the overly cheerful manner and becoming more direct. "Or, to be more precise, with one of my associates. I think you'll work together quite well."

"I don't need a job," Jack said. "And I don't need coworkers who want to be best friends. I don't even need dinner anymore. It was nice to meet you."

He stood up, and she followed, tapping at her wrist strap. Jack tensed, wondering if he was in danger. He glanced around the restaurant, noting the exits, the windows, good defensive points. She leaned across the table and laid a hand on his arm, frowning as several other diners turned to look at them; it probably appeared as if they'd had a domestic of some sort.

"Captain, I apologize. I should have realized you wouldn't appreciate being strung along, but I assure you, it wasn't out of any sort of malice. We—Nicolas and I—are simply trying to help."

"To give me a second chance at a happy life in Cardiff?" Jack asked sarcastically. "You didn't even ask if I wanted to stay, if I wanted to be here."

"Well," huffed a familiar but long-lost voice behind him. "I know it's changed, but it's not so bad. Not when you can drink good coffee again."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is one more chapter. I couldn't resist spacing it out as I prefer shorter chapters and wanted to get this bit out sooner. And yes to the other question. Yay! Surprise!


	6. Chapter 6

 Chapter Six

"Well, I know it's changed, but it's not so bad. Not when you can drink good coffee again."

Jack froze, staring wide-eyed at Nicole. She smiled, her eyes bright, and patted him on the arm before stepping back. "Happy New Year, Captain. I do hope you'll accept."

She left the table, but Jack didn't turn around; he couldn't. It wasn't possible, the voice he was hearing. It was a voice he hadn't heard for over nine decades, a voice that couldn't be speaking to him now because that man, that voice, had died long ago. Jack had seen many things traveling the universe, but this…this was impossible.

And then the voice stepped in front of him, and Jack saw familiar eyes and a familiar smile and he squeezed his eyes shut, certain he was dreaming. Or that Nicole had slipped something into his drink. When he opened them again, the smile across from him was uncertain, the eyes worried. He was dressed in casual trousers and a jumper under a grey pea coat, but even without the pinstripe suit, Jack knew this was Ianto Jones.

"Hi, Jack." The Welshman was quiet, unsure. "Er, happy new year?"

"Ianto?" Jack asked, his voice almost refusing to work. "Is that really you?"

"Yes, sir," he said with a smile, then rolled his eyes with an obvious sense of self-deprecation. Jack felt his heart skip a beat at that eye roll, so fondly missed. "Although since neither of us work for Torchwood, I guess the 'sir' is unnecessary now."

"But how? You were…and it's been….how?" Jack knew how ridiculous he sounded, but he couldn't help it. It was like he was trapped in an old black and white film, only he wasn't sure what type: a ghost story? Or a romance?

"It's not much of a story, to be honest," Ianto said. Yes, there were those beloved Welsh vowels. "Maybe we could sit and talk?" He paused. "And eat. Nicolas promised me dinner."

"Nicolas?" Jack asked, even more surprised. "He brought you here?"

Ianto nodded. "Both to this year, and to this restaurant. He said he had a surprise. I guess you're it?"

"He told me the same thing," Jack whispered. "And then I met Nicole, and she offered me a job, and I thought—"

"She did?" Ianto asked in surprise. "Well, we have even more to talk about then." He started to sit, but Jack stopped him, reaching out for him and catching him by the wrist. Yes, he was real, but how?

"Not here. I couldn't eat anyway, not now, and I don't know if the general public should hear some of this. You  _died._ "

Ianto cringed slightly, but nodded. "Good point. I was at a party and left early when Nicolas found me. Maybe we could pick up something to eat, go back to mine to talk?"

Jack nodded wordlessly, and Ianto put down some bills to cover the drinks. He shrugged when Jack gave him a curious look. "I imagine Nicole already paid, but if not, I'll submit a claim."

They left the restaurant, an awkward silence between them until they stepped onto the sidewalk. Ianto buttoned his coat and pulled on a pair of gloves before glancing at Jack. "I like the new coat," he offered. Jack looked down at himself.

"And I suddenly miss the old one." He reached out, running a hand down Ianto's arm, then his other, before pulling him into an embrace. He felt exactly like Jack remembered, even smelled like he remembered. It had to be him. "I missed  _you_."

Ianto seemed surprised, but returned the embrace before stepping back and putting distance between them. He seemed both calm and unsettled as he motioned them forward and they began walking to his flat. "Unless you time traveled, it's been a long time for you."

"Ninety years," Jack said. "Almost a century. How long has it been for you?"

Ianto laughed nervously. "Not nearly as long. About a year. Nicolas brought me here last February. He said Anwen Cooper-Williams had died recently and it was a safe year to jump to. She was the last living person to have known me."

"Gwen was still pregnant with her when you…well…"

"When I died?" Ianto filled in, easy enough though still bitter sounding. "Yes, but apparently, it was enough. He said it would be best to wait, so he did. Mica and David were gone as well."

"But how did he bring you here? You died, I was there. I died right next to you." Jack reached out for Ianto's hand, unable to resist. "But I came back. I woke up alone, and it was—Ianto, I led you to your death. It was my fault, and I—"

"Jack, stop," Ianto said with a frown. "It wasn't your fault. It was both our faults. We didn't think. We'd been blown up and chased and shot at and forced into hiding when we should have been on the frontlines helping. We didn't have our heads on straight and we screwed up. It wasn't your fault that we went in like that, it was our own hot-headedness in an impossible situation." He glanced sideways. "And I know what happened after, how you stopped them. That wasn't your fault, either. You had no choice."

"I did," Jack said bitterly, dropping Ianto's hand. "But I choose to kill my grandson."

"To save millions of other children around the world!" Ianto exclaimed. "You made the biggest sacrifice of anyone that day, you saved the entire world."

"It wasn't my sacrifice to make," Jack said. "But I'd lost you, and in a way, I had nothing else to lose…except I did, I lost my daughter. And for a while, I lost Gwen and Rhys and Torchwood."

They were quiet after that, walking through the night toward Ianto's flat. "What happened after that day?" he asked.

"I should be asking you that—you're the one who's appeared decades in the future!"

"You first," Ianto bumped his shoulder. "Age before wisdom and all that."

Jack groaned. "I'm never going to live down the last ninety years, am I?"

"You're almost ten times older than me now, if I'm doing the math right," Ianto teased. "Makes me feel young."

Jack couldn't help but smile, because while the reminder of his age was a hard one, it was worth it to be walking and talking with Ianto. "I left," he said. "I came back a few times, then left again, for good. Haven't been back since, until today."

"Why did you come back today?" Ianto asked.

"I don't know, but I'm glad I did," Jack replied. "Your turn now. How is it you're here? The day I come back?"

Ianto smiled somewhat mysteriously and pointed across the street to a kebab shop. "I'm right around the corner, and they're pretty good. We can pick something up and finish in a few?"

"You're not getting out of telling your story," Jack warned him.

"I know, but to be honest, I don't know most of it. Come on, we'll cross here."

They made small talk about the area while they waited for their dinner, then grabbed the two bags and headed back into the night. Ianto's flat was around the corner in a modern building, grey and colorless in the dark, and must have housed dozens of flats. They took a lift up to the top floor, where Ianto had a corner unit at the end of the corridor.

He touched his hand to the door to enter, and a light came on in the entryway. Ianto's flat was open and airy, with higher ceilings due to being on the top floor. The entry flowed into the open living space, set up with plain furniture and a dining area that connected to an ultra-modern kitchen. It was spotless and decorated sparsely, and Jack almost wondered if Ianto owned any of it, or if he had rented it that way.

He noticed Jack studying it as he set down the food on a counter. "It's not so different than my old place, except for being bigger, higher, and much more posh. And nothing's my own, not really. I'm getting used to it. There's a bedroom with an ensuite on either side, so more than enough space. Can I, er, take your coat?"

He put their coats in a nearby closet while Jack wandered about. The view of the city from the large windows was spectacular, and Jack couldn't help but smile. It had looked so different earlier, but from higher up, it now appeared almost unchanged, only brighter. Especially with Ianto back.

"Would you like something to drink?" Ianto asked. "There's some odd juices popular these days, but the beer is growing on me. Always water if you're not interested."

"Whatever you're having," Jack answered. "Thanks."

Ianto came over and handed him a glass. Sipping it, Jack found it was a strong but earthy ale, quite different than anything he'd had in Cardiff the last time he'd been to a pub. "Not bad," he offered.

"Not good, either," Ianto grumbled. "I miss a good pint of Brains, but apparently, they closed about ten years ago. Two hundred years brewing in Cardiff, and they can't wait another ten for me."

Jack laughed. "Too bad you don't have a wrist strap. You could go get one."

Ianto took a sip, walked over to the table, and grinned as he sat down. "I did. My jumper tweaked his manipulator and we went back to 2088 to the last pub serving it."

Jack joined him as Ianto handed him a plate and they began to dish out the take away. It was strange, considering the last time they had done this was over ninety years ago for Jack, before the children had stopped and the world had gone to hell.

"Your jumper?" he asked as they started to eat. "Are you doing something else on Christmas Eve now?"

"I'm an assistant at the moment," Ianto replied. "Nicole thought, and rightly so, that it would be better for me to observe this year. Things are different in this time—the technology, homes, even the kids and the gifts they receive. All of it. The world moved on," he added softly. He stopped, gazing out the window with a thoughtful look on his face.

"I know the feeling," Jack murmured, and Ianto turned back to him, shaking off the melancholy.

"I imagine you do. Nicolas said you'd left Earth. I asked." Ianto sighed. "Of course I asked, when he brought me here. I knew you'd still be alive, but I hadn't dared hope you'd still be in Cardiff. And if you were, there was every chance you wouldn't remember me—you'd move on, maybe have a family of your own…but he said you'd been gone for several years."

"I left Wales not long after you died," Jack admitted, still struggling to say those words. "Then I left Earth, wandered a bit. I came back when Gwen restarted Torchwood. That was interesting."

"That's Torchwood," Ianto agreed in his driest voice. "The institute that will never die. I thought about ringing them, but didn't want to move back to London. It's a wreck."

"Torchwood is still around? Wow." Jack tried to process it, that the once grand organization, brought down so many times, had somehow survived two centuries. "So what do you do, if you're not with Torchwood? When you're not working for Santa Claus?"

Ianto held up a hand. "No, we were talking about you. When did you last leave?"

"Fifty years ago," Jack said, almost amused when Ianto set down his kebab and leaned back in surprise.

"Oh," was all he said, clearly stunned by the passage of time.

"Gwen and Rhys died, and our team was gone or off on their own...I had nothing to stay for. It was time."

There was a long silence as Ianto took a drink before asking the inevitable question. "So why did you come back, then? After so long?"

"I told you, I don't really know. It's New Year's Eve, so I thought maybe I'd take a look, watch another century turn over before leaving the galaxy. I was planning on taking the long road to Andromeda."

This time Ianto almost choked on his food. "The long road? How long is it to the Andromeda galaxy?"

"Couple of decades," Jack replied. "Figured I'd do some sightseeing along the way."

"But Nicole offered you a job? Did you accept?"

"She did, but I didn't have a chance to answer her. So you know my story now. What about yours? How are you here, in this time—alive?"

Ianto finished his beer and stood up. "Another drink?"

"I'm good," Jack said. "But go ahead, if you need it."

"I need a real beer," Ianto muttered. He ducked into the kitchen and returned with another drink and some crisps. "All right. It's not much of a story, to be honest. Nicolas won't tell me everything. All I know is he somehow rescued me from Thames House. He brought me here because he didn't want to change or affect the timeline. I was in hospital for a month. They were familiar with the virus and able to cure me, but it was a long recovery, and it weakened my immune system enough that I'm still on medication."

"I don't understand. How could he rescue you? I saw your body, when I revived. Gwen and I, we were both there and it was…it was a nightmare." Jack pushed the terrible images from his mind, suddenly so fresh and real even after so many years. "Dying next to you and then waking up knowing you wouldn't. That you were gone forever."

"Not quite forever," Ianto murmured with a crooked smile.

"There was a funeral," Jack said. "They brought you back to Cardiff. I would have known if it wasn't you, I would have heard if it—if you—had gone missing!"

"Did you see it? My body?"

"No," Jack said slowly as realization dawned. "They cremated all the victims of Thames House, to prevent the spread of the pathogen. I was so angry, and your sister was furious, but there was never any reason to suspect they were lying about anything."

"Huh." Ianto took another sip of his drink and popped some crisps in his mouth. "I wonder whose ashes they gave you then."

Jack stared at him. "How can you sit there so calmly? There's a grave in Cardiff with your name on it, and someone else is buried there!"

"I know, I've see it," Ianto replied, his voice clipped and flat. "If I seem cavalier, it's because I spent months regaining my health and mourning the life I could never go back to. Either the government lied to you, or Nicolas did something when he went back to Thames House. Both are equally possible. Either way, it has no bearing on this time. There's nothing I can do about the past."

Jack sat back. "You've changed."

"I died," snapped Ianto. "It changes a person, Jack. At least those of us not used to it." He dropped his head, took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was remorseful. "I'm sorry, I don't mean it that way. It's not your fault, it's not even Nicolas's fault, since he gave me a second chance…but it was hard. I was sick and alone and confused and so, so angry at the time."

Jack sighed. "At me?" he asked softly. Ianto looked away, his face twisting with emotion.

"Yes," he said quietly, and with regret. "I couldn't help it, but I died, and you came back. You got to stay with your family, your friends, with Gwen and Rhys. I woke up doorsteps from the next century, and everyone I knew was long gone. And then you weren't here. That was the hardest. You were my first thought when Nicolas told me what year it was, but you were gone. For months, I wasn't sure what the point was. Why he saved me. Why I'm still alive."

Jack stood up and began to pace around the small flat, trying to pull his thoughts together. Ianto began to clean up the table, putting away the food and dishes. It seemed they both needed a moment. Jack couldn't blame Ianto for his outburst; of course he would have been angry. It had to have been so confusing, to find himself alive and alone in a future where everyone he'd ever known was dead and gone. The question was whether he was still upset about it. Jack had lost Ianto over ninety years ago and though he missed him and regretted what had happened that day, he had made peace with it. For Ianto, it had happened less than a year ago.

Jack stood at the window, wondering what to do, what to say next. Hard enough to be immortal and fall in love with a mortal he was destined to lose. To find that mortal once more in the future, alive and well, was not something he'd ever hoped for. There was no script for them. After several minutes, Ianto came to stand beside him and handed Jack a cup of coffee.

"For old time's sake," he said. "Took me a while to get used to the beans these days, but it's not bad."

Jack took a sip; it was better than anything he'd had for decades. Or maybe it was simply because Ianto had made it. He let it rest on his palate and savored the dark flavor before he spoke again, mustering the courage to finish their conversation, no matter where it took them. They had left so much unsaid in the past that the one thing Jack knew was that they couldn't leave things unsaid now.

"Are you still angry?" he asked. "With me?"

"No," Ianto answered without hesitation. "I'm not. And I'm not angry about being here, not anymore. I'm finally starting to fit in, I think. Have a life."

"You were at a party earlier?" Jack asked.

"Some people from work," Ianto told him with a smile. "Which, by the way, is for the National Museum Wales. I've established myself as an expert on the early 21st century."

Jack laughed. "But what about everything in between?"

"I'm still catching up," Ianto replied dryly. "But I'm good at deflecting."

"And do you still wonder why you're here?" Jack asked, not sure of the answer.

"Every day." Ianto's voice was quiet, his eyes distant as he gazed out of the window. He turned to Jack with a thoughtful look on his face. "But maybe this is why."

"What do you mean?" Jack assumed Nicolas was fond of Ianto and needed him for his Christmas work. He didn't dare hope there was anything else to it.

"Maybe I'm here because you're here," Ianto replied. Jack eyed him sideways, and Ianto shrugged, as if embarrassed for suggesting it. "It can't be a coincidence. Not when we run into one another ninety years later at an expensive restaurant on New Year's Eve."

"No, probably not," Jack agreed. "It certainly seems Nicolas wanted us to meet tonight. The question is why."

"He'll never tell us," Ianto said. "We may never see him again."

"Then maybe we should be grateful, that he brought us back together." Ianto glanced at him in surprise, and Jack tried to back pedal. "By together, I mean…well, we're both alive, back in Cardiff, together in this time…I mean, not together like a couple, since I don't know where you're at with all that, but we're both…" He shook his head with a silent laugh. "Never mind."

"I know what you meant. But…well, it's only been about ten months since I last saw you, Jack. And I've only recently felt like I fit in here, like I could stay and be happy. Started going to my local a few months ago, have had a grand total of one date that was perfectly nice but went absolutely nowhere." He stopped, covering any embarrassment with a quick sip of coffee. "So that's where I'm at, if you're wondering. It's been much longer for you."

Jack thought about what to say, how much to share. He didn't want to lie to Ianto about anything, but he also didn't want to hurt him. Yet he had thought about him, missed him over the years, and the thought of having a second chance with this man was something he wanted more than anything at that moment. "It was hard, losing you," he started, sipping his own coffee as he once more felt emotions he hadn't felt for years. "I thought about you a lot, yet there were times when I wanted to forget everything that had ever happened here, it was so painful. But then I'd remember the good things. I never forget the people I've loved. And seeing as I might have a second chance with one of them…well, the Andromeda galaxy can wait."

Ianto didn't look at him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile. "Second chance, huh?" He set down his mug on the coffee table, then took Jack's and set it down as well. "So maybe we could, when this is all done, have dinner? A movie?"

Jack grinned. "Did I actually sound like that?"

"You remember!" Ianto laughed. "I'm impressed."

"I was nervous."

"So am I," Ianto admitted. "I'm taking a big risk here, not knowing if you're really interested after ninety years, or feel some sort of obligation because you know I'm alive and out of my time. You could be traveling the galaxy, living dangerously, you know."

"And how do I know whether you're really interested after dying by my side, because of me?" Jack asked. "You woke up to a brand-new future where you could live a normal life without Torchwood. You could be starting a family, living happily ever after, you know."

Ianto shook his head as he grinned at the same time. "Sounds boring. I liked what I had."

Jack stared into in his eyes. "I wasn't always easy." Ianto's eyebrow shot up. "In the relationship sense," Jack added.

"Oh, we had a relationship?" Ianto asked lightly, but it still stung, and Ianto could see it. "Sorry, but you're right. It wasn't always easy for us. Probably won't ever be easy. But…at least Torchwood won't be a problem."

"There's that," Jack murmured. Then again, Torchwood had brought them together, in its warped and heartbreaking way.

"Dinner and movie, Jack," Ianto said. "See what you think about sticking around the 22nd century. One day at a time."

Jack felt his throat tighten and reached for Ianto's hand. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"I don't want to disappoint you," Ianto replied. "I don't know the person you are after ninety years. But I'd like to try, and to get to know you. I can only imagine the stories you must have to tell!"

"Maybe a few," Jack laughed. "And I'd like to try too, to share them and hear some of yours."

"I didn't leave the planet," Ianto pointed out. "Just died and woke up in the future."

"That's my favorite story right there."

Ianto rolled his eyes, then glanced down at their hands before pulling Jack closer, so that they were almost chest to chest. "I hope you haven't developed some sort of sentimental bent over the years. That's not what I'm looking for."

"I know, and but I am older than you so I might get sentimental once in a while." Jack laughed, moving his arms around Ianto's waist. Ianto did the same, stepping closer so that they were touching. It felt amazing to be back in this man's arms.

"So is that a yes?" Ianto asked, eyebrow raised. When Jack nodded, he seemed to sag with relief. "Good, then I can finally do this."

And he pressed his lips to Jack's, gently at first, but it quickly grew more heated as they both took in the feel of the other after so many long months and years apart. For a moment, it felt like Jack had never left, that Ianto had never died, that ninety years had never passed and everything between them was the same as the last time he'd kissed Ianto like this, before walking into Thames House. Jack felt more at home than he had in years, and knew he would stay with Ianto for as long as he could.

"Welcome back," Ianto breathed as they pulled apart. They rested their foreheads together, their hands still moving slowly over one another. "And happy new year."

"Happy new year," Jack whispered. And it would be, as he began the 22nd century in Cardiff once more, with the man he loved—and a new job bringing holiday joy to others, together.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Sorry about the long wait, but working out the back and forth of this conversation was tough, and I do hope it didn't veer too sentimental. Jack does indeed begin to work for Nicole and spread Christmas joy to the children of the world. And he may just inherit the top position one day as well! He also enjoys many happy years with Ianto in the 22nd century. Thank you for reading, and may your new year be a wonderful year as well!


End file.
